Rubber Bands
by keotey1228
Summary: Jack has taken on a job that isn't what he had in mind. Kim doesn't approve of it, and he won't talk about it with any of the guys because he's too embarassed. When he loses one of his workers, he becomes a worker himself working for someone who pushes him to the limit.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is rated M. M stands for MAJOR Mature in this story. I've never done anything like this, and I'm kind of scared to do something like this, too. **

**But I thought, eh. What the heck? Why not..?**

**Please don't read if you cannot be mature. Please do not read and then send me hate mail saying this is too mature. **

**I warned you.**

The first rubber bands I got were a red and an orange. The others were way beyond me.

"Hey, Jack," I turned around to see Kim.

"Hey," I said, still looking around cautiously. She noticed this and tried to see what I was looking at.

"What are you up to?" She asked.

"Nothing…" She gasped, and I knew she realized that I put on the rubber bands.

"Take those off!" She hissed and tried to grab my arm. I pulled it away and resisted my reflex to flip her. "They are _bad."_

I looked at her. "You don't think I _know_ that?"

"Then _why, _exactly, are you wearing them?" She pulled me into a corner and began to trap me in.

I rolled my eyes. "For the same reason everyone else is wearing them: money."

"Ugh…" She put a hand to my forehead. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Kim!" I smacked her hand away. "I'm _fine."_

"Then use your brain and take those rubber bands off!" She tried to take them off again. And I had to hold onto the locker behind me to suppress the feeling to flip her.

"No!" I eventually got her to stop. "I'm only wearing red and orange. Nothing bad."

"But you want to sell yourself? Sell yourself to people you barely know?" She raised an eyebrow. "Think about it."

I let go of the locker behind me as Kim stormed away, obviously pissed.

I had been doing this for a few weeks now, but Kim hasn't even noticed until now. Mainly because every other time I was ready to take off my rubber bands so she wouldn't see. She caught me off guard this time.

I sighed. Kim's right, but I need the money.

"Uh, excuse me?" I turned around to see a small girl. She was pretty. Probably in middle school.

"Yeah..?" I asked. She nervously looked around, and saw a group of girls her age, but bigger than her.

She gulped. "I was told I needed to talk to you."

"What for?"

"I need a job, and those girls over there said to talk to you."

I nodded and slowly started to walk around the girl, checking her over. I nodded again. "Okay. I have a job for you."

She smiled weakly. "What is it?"

"Do you see that store over there?" I pointed to the dollar store on the corner of the mall. She nodded.

"Go inside and buy one of each of these," I pointed to my bracelets. "I'll explain the system to you when you get back."

She nodded slowly and then ran over to the store. I sat down on one of the benches and took off my bracelets, showing that I was off the job for right now. I barely noticed a girl look at me sad and disappointed.

I smiled at her slightly, and put the bracelets in my hoodie pocket, letting her know I was keeping them. She smiled back and then turned away.

"I got them," I turned to see the small girl holding one of each of the bracelets.

"Okay, here's how this works," I put my hands on the table and she sat down on the other side. "You put on any of the bracelets, but only the ones you're willing to do."

"Do..?" She asked.

"Let me finish…" I looked at her. "You work for me, so stay loyal to me. You do the work, and I get you the people to work for. I make 1/3 of the money you make, and you get 2/3."

"But, what do I do..?"

"I'm getting to it," I looked at her sternly. "When someone wants to work for you, they snap a bracelet off your wrist. They pick the color, but only from the colors your wearing. So choose wisely."

"How do I know which ones to choose?" She looked at me, exasperated. I reached my hand out for her bracelets and she put them in my hand.

"This one," I put the red on the table. "Means you have to kiss whoever snaps it."

Her eyes widened, finally getting the main idea of the bracelets. "But…"

"Shh…" I told her. "If you want the money, listen."

She nodded and slumped a little bit.

"This one," I put the orange on the table. "Means you have to French kiss."

She scrunched her eyebrows together.

"Yellow…" I pun the yellow rubber band on the table. "Means you have to have sex with whoever snaps it."

"What!?" She stood up, her eyes wide.

"You don't have to wear them all. Just the ones you choose…" She seemed to calm a little and sat back down.

"This one..?" She took the blue one from my hand and put it on the table. "What is this one..?"

"Ugh…" I shook my head. "Almost my least favorite. Means you have to give and get an oral."

She raised an eyebrow. "What's that..?"

"Good…" I nodded, and she looked confused.

"This one," I cut her off before she could say anything and put the green rubber band on the table. "Is a mix of the yellow and the blue. Basically a one night stand."

She nodded and grabbed the purple like it was on fire. "This one..?"

"Means you have to do any of those, but with someone of the same gender."

She wiggled her nose and looked over at the trash can. I laughed a little, and she smiled at me. "The last one…"

I picked up the black one. I had never used any of these other than the red and orange. I had been asked and pleaded to put on any of the other ones, but I had refused. "Means that the person that's snaps it gets to pick anything."

"Anything..?" She asked.

"Anything they want."

… **Should I continue this? I dunno… seems to, ya know..? I might… what do ya think?**


	2. Chapter 2

I have just now noticed how many people actually wore rubber bands. There was a ton.

I saw a mixture of all the colors on almost everyone. I saw some getting snapped on a daily basis. Seems as though yellow was most used. As if I'd ever use it.

I saw a few of my workers throughout the day. Most are the shy ones who won't talk to people and get them to snap their bracelets. But those are the best kind.

"... and you have an appointment when it gets dark." I was telling my first and best worker.

"Color?"

"Yellow, of course." I smile and she smiles back.

"Seems as if I'm popular when it comes to rubber bands."

She walked off, her hips swaying. They were the only reason she was popular. I hated it.

I swung around on the bench of the table I was sitting at. I leaned my elbows on the table and I rubbed my face with my hands.

The world is so messed up. Kids, innocent kids with their lives ahead of them, are selling their bodies for money. And I was encouraging it.

I can't help it, of course. I have money now. Plenty, in fact. But, if I stopped being an owner, I would have to let all my bees go **(worker bees)**. They need the money, and if I left them alone, they would be jobless and out for grabs.

I protect my bees. They are always the small, innocent ones. I only take the small, innocent ones. The ones that can't take care of them self in the world of rubber bands. They would be crushed, and would no longer be small or innocent.

"Jack..?" I lifted my head and saw my favorite bee. I smiled. How could I not? She was barely 5 feet tall, and had a pretty face. She was as innocent as they come.

"Yeah?" She looked down and slowly moved to sit on the bench across from me.

She didn't look up or say anything. I let the silence fill the air. She needed it to think. "I... I need to take a leave of absence..."

I nodded. "That time of the month again?" She nodded, almost ashamed. "Need any cheese?"

She nodded and smiled. I always treated her like an older brother. I never talked about anything she didn't want to talk about. I never mentioned her jobs and I could tell she was always grateful. After a job, all she did was bring me the signed sticky note and my fair share of the money.

Her sticky notes in the beginning were only red and orange, same as me. I have recently gotten yellow sticky notes from her. It made me sad that she bought yellow bands. But, I knew that she had to do what she had to do. She was my bee, but she could do what she wanted. For the most part.

"What kind?" I slid my worn backpack off my shoulder and set it on the table.

"Cheese sticks, if you have any."

I nodded and unzipped the black zipper. The first thing I saw inside was two binders. One for me, and one for my bees. Obviously, the bee binder was thicker. I saw a few stray sticky notes coming from it. I need to remember to reorganize them. I ruffled through the boxes and rubber bands till I saw the right box.

"Regular cheese sticks, right?" I looked back up at her and saw a nod. I pulled the box out and gave it to her. She quickly hid it in her lap and she pulled off her backpack. It was similar to mine. I gave all my workers one. They had the same style with my logo on it. A capital 'J' and inside it was the first letter of their name. White lettering on a black pack.

She stuffed the box in her backpack and zipped it up. She slipped off her bands and put them away in the front pouch. She thanked me again before promising to find me when she was ready.

I nodded and let her go. She was my favorite. I couldn't help but fall in love. In a brother-sister kind of way.

I turned around just in time to see a familiar blonde stalking towards me. Her face was fuming.

**Just a kind of filler. But, it has useful information. I'm going to fill you in.**

Bees: Jack calls his worker bees.

The sticky note thing: when you do a job, the person that snaps your rubber bands signs a sticky note with the same color of the band. They put the price on the note in case they work for someone or in case they want it for record. It kind of became law in the world of rubber bands.

Cheese: '"That time of the month again?"' It was the girl's period. Cheese sticks are tampons, and cheese slices are pads. For the dudes, sorry. For the chicas, you understand. Saying cheese is a lot less gross. And it's funny and makes sense. Deal with it.

Jack's binders: He always keep them in his backpack. One binder has all his sticky notes. The other binder has short profiles of his bees, and he keeps their rubber bands in their file. The file in two notebook paper is two pieces of notebook papers taped together. The two pieces are in the three ring things. On the notebook paper is the profile. Inside the little pocket (the papers are only taped on three sides to make a pocket) is where Jack keeps the sticky notes. When Jack puts a sticky note in, he folds the sticky part back and slips it in so it won't stick.

Backpacks: Picture an all black backpack. Everything black, even zippers. Now imagine a white bubble letter 'J'. The bees' letter on their backpack has the white 'J' and the first letter of their name in black inside. A small black bubble letter. Jack's backpack has just a 'J'.

So, yeah. You're pretty much up to date. If you read that, thank you. I will try and mush it into the story sometime so for the people that didn't read this author's note will understand.

I know there are a lot of you that didn't read this. GO BACK UP AND READ THAT


	3. Chapter 3

"What on earth do you think you're doing?!" Kim slammed a hand down on the table and glared down at me.

I shrugged, knowing this wouldn't be good. "Working…"

"Yeah. As a slave."

I raised an eyebrow. "Kim, I'm not…"

"You're not what? Oh, that's right. You don't all that much work for yourself anymore, do you? What do you do know? Train them all to be good little sex slaves?!"

He eyes were crackling. All the fury she's been holding up since I started working finally coming out. I tried to stay calm. I knew if I got too worked up, my instincts would take over and she could end up hurt.

"They're not 'sex slaves'. They're my bees."

"Bees..?"

I nodded. "Worker bees."

"Oh…" She dragged out the 'oh' in an accusing way. "I see how it is. You give them people to have sex with, and you get paid for nothing. I don't see how that's fair. They do all the work."

"Maybe so…" I nodded, and refused to meet Kim's eyes. "But they don't complain. It's the deal in my business. They get 2/3 of the payment for doing the work, I find them people, and I get the other third."

She shook her head and I saw the disapproving look out of the corner of my eye. An angry Kim was not a good thing to deal with, but as long as I stayed calm, I was fine.

"You're treating them like circus animals!" She burst out and slapped me on the back, hard. I jumped up and subconsciously flipped her out of her seat and onto the table. Before I knew it, she was pinned down, stuck.

I looked at her, realizing what I'd done. Too late.

She glared daggers at me and pushed me off of her. She leaped off the table and started to walk away. She turned back. "Don't you dare try and come for me for help when one of your 'bees' gets hurt. Or even you…"

She turned back and stalked off. I sighed and sat back down at the table. I took a quick scan of my surroundings to see that nobody was near us for that.

In relief and stress, I set my head down on the table. I breathed deeply and stared down at the ground.

I was doing this for the good side, right? I thought I was doing good, but Kim is so sure that I'm doing bad. Am I bad for doing this..?

I yelped as a hand tugged sharply on the back of my throat. I pulled straight up and pulled tight against someone's chest. I couldn't breathe. I had no energy because of the sharp intake of breath I had right as I was pulled up.

I was losing air, and I was losing consciousness. My captor did not release, and I slumped into his arms.

**Short. Yes. Long overdue. Yep. Kinda boring. You got it. I threw in a little action at the end, so I hope it makes up for it..?**


End file.
